


Choices & Chances

by apple_pi



Series: Choices & Chances [1]
Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-27
Updated: 2005-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-22 04:41:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7420315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apple_pi/pseuds/apple_pi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's possible that Dom can talk Billy into anything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Choices & Chances

“I’m just—not.” Billy furrowed his brow, aiming a severe look across the coffee table. He reclined on the settee, having forcibly ejected Dom an hour ago and held the position against all assaults.

Dom ignored the look, as usual. He turned around in the easy chair, hooked his knees over the back and let his head hang backward over the cushion.

“Have you ever sat like this?” He looked demented. Well. More demented than usual.

“No.” Billy’s expression smoothed back to its more usual “let’s humor Dom” expression of patient tolerance. “Not since I was a kid, anyway.”

“S’not that comfortable.” Dom folded his hands over his chest, waggled his eyebrows. “Not that uncomfortable, either. A man could get used to it.”

Billy sighed. “Dom, I am not shagging you.”

“Oh, c’mon, Bills. It’ll be fun. Try something new.”

“Shagging a man is not the same as trying sushi!” Billy squinted, trying to look mean. “And I’m heterosexual, you wanker!”

“Only a wanker cos you won’t do it for me,” Dom retorted.

“My ears!” Billy yelped, covering them. “I’ll have to bleach my brain!”

Dom somersaulted backward awkwardly, managing to land on his arse, sitting on the floor facing the chair. He turned around and looked soulfully at Billy. “Awww, c’mon. We’re perfect together. If you’d just stop being so—” he waved his hands vaguely— “straight, we could live together forever and ever.”

Billy sighed again. “Not shagging you, Dom. Period. End of story. Cut! That’s a wrap.”

Dom took his turn at sighing. “How about a snog, then?”

“Dominic!”

“Oh, c’mon. Kissing isn’t the same as shagging, even you have to admit that.” He crawled over to the sofa and climbed onto Billy. “Kiss me, Billy Boyd.” He stuck his face in Billy’s and fluttered his lashes.

Billy grunted at Dom’s weight and flattened one hand over Dom’s face. “Getcher ugly mug out of my space,” he said, then cursed and laughed when Dom licked his palm. “Fuck!” He jerked his hand away, wiping it on the back of the sofa.

“Just think about it, Bill.” Dom grinned at him, half-sincere, half-wild-eyed with glee at having discomfited his mate.

Billy shifted under him, considered tickling, decided against. “Think about it?”

“Yeah. Just… think about kissing a bloke.”

“Any bloke?”

“Me.” Dom poked out his tongue, crossed his eyes.

Billy laughed and heaved his body up, bucking Dom off. “You do look attractive like that.”

Dom scrambled backward and sat at Billy’s feet, knees pulled to his chest. “See?” He grinned. “Give in to the want, Billy. It’s the wave of the new millennium: being bi.”

Billy made another face. “It’s your want, not mine. ’M’too old to change now.”

“Bullshit.” Dom’s expression shifted, and he looked down. “Whyn’t you try it? Just the thinking about it.” His ears and neck were suddenly red.

Silence stretched thin between them. Billy picked at a loose thread on his shirt; Dom wiggled his toes and bumped his chin on his knees in a quiet rhythm.

“Gotcha,” he said finally, pasting a smile on. “Wound you up there, didn’t I?”

Billy looked surprised. “Wait a minute, I was just about to try the thinking about it thing,” he protested.

“Oh well, don’t let me stop you.”

“I think I need more alcohol for this,” Billy muttered. He closed his eyes and went completely still.

_What would kissing Dom be like? Weird. Very weird. Because Dom is… Dom. But he is good-looking, as blokes go. I suppose. So. Picture it. Dom’s face getting close to mine. Not hard to picture, since he considers Boyd personal space to actually be BillynDom space. Which I don’t mind, really. So okay, face, getting closer. What would scruff feel like against my face? Because Dom’s always scruffy this late in the weekend. Feel weird I guess, but probably not actually bad, because, y’know. Girls kiss scruffy guys all the time and hardly ever seemed to mind. And Dom’s lips look soft, so that would be okay. Would he—oh god. What would his tongue be doing the whole time? Is that nerves, or -? No. Nerves, probably. Not… interest. Nerves. Because Dom’s tongue is so long and, and active. It wouldn’t be like kissing a girl, I bet. Would probably be harder, more aggressive._

Billy opened his eyes abruptly.

“Well?” Dom stopped wriggling and propped his chin solidly on his knees.

Billy shrugged elaborately. “I dunno. Snogging might not be so bad.”

Dom grinned. It was slow, and wicked, and vulpine, and Billy’s face blushed bright red. “So can I kiss you?” Dom tilted his head.

Billy’s eyes roamed away, settling somewhere on the far wall, near the ceiling. He shrugged again. “Can try.”

Dom jumped into his lap again, arms and legs and knees and elbows folding till he was settled nicely.

“Nothing more, though, Monaghan. F’you try and cop a feel I’ll neuter you. And I’m still never shagging you.”

Dom sighed. “Leave me my dreams.” He grinned some more and put his arms around Billy’s neck. “Comfy?”

Billy swallowed. He glanced at Dom’s mouth, then his eyes, then settled his gaze on Dom’s chin. “No.”

“Relax, Bills.” The younger man’s face softened. “You really that nervous about it?”

“What if it fucks up—y’know. This? The friendship thing?” Billy couldn’t decide what to do with his hands; one settled, finally, on Dom’s warm back. The other lay hesitantly on the sofa cushion.

“Listen, it won’t. If you hate it, you can torture me with jokes about what a rotten kisser I am for the rest of our lives.” Dom smirked. “If you love it, you can kiss me whenever you want for the rest of our lives.”

“If I hate it, I’m gonna mention it in every interview we do together,” Billy threatened. He closed his eyes. “I definitely need more alcohol for this.”

“Poor Billy.” Dom waited, though.

“Aren’t you nervous? At all?” Billy tittered, cut it off murderously, sighed. “Isn’t this the part where you’re supposed to say _You really don’t have to if you’re that nervous, Billy_?”

“Not saying that,” Dom replied. “Yeah, I’m nervous. But fuck that, I’ve spent how long trying to talk you into shag—erm, kissing me? Months, you fucking slowcoach. So c’mon, let’s snog.”

“Not shagging you,” Billy repeated. He stared at Dom for a second. “Okay. So kiss me.”

Dom looked insanely cheerful as he leaned forward. Billy closed his eyes.

_Ohfuckohfuckohfuck. Okay. Just a kiss. Lips. Yep, soft, not bad at all. Little prickly there. That’s weird. I knew it would be weird. Hmm. Oh, maybe I should—huh. Kiss back? God, okay, lemme see, like… oh. Soft little kisses. Not too aggressive. Kinda… nice. Oh. Parting his lips he’s parting his lips what do I do—okay. I’ll just—do the same I guess… Mm. Warm. He smells nice. Hands feel good on my neck. Mmm, like that thing with his fingers in my hair. Makes me feel kinda shivery though._

_Oh fuck, that’s his tongue._

_Am I gonna open my mouth too—? Yeah. Guess so. That’s—mmm. Oh. Tastes good, like beer a little but now that’s gone and it’s just, huh. Just Dom I guess._

_Oh my god I know what Dom tastes like._

Billy broke the kiss and let his head fall back onto the arm of the settee. Dom was warm and heavy in his lap. And still. More motionless than he ever was, except when he was in character, or doing yoga.

“So was it awful?” Dom’s head, thudding against Billy’s chest, and Billy ran his hand up Dom’s back and tugged at the hair at his mate’s neck. Dom shuddered and twitched, and Billy smiled. He’d been too still.

“No…” Billy sounded as though he was considering his answer. “But it was weird.”

“Weirder than kissing a bird you’ve never kissed?” Dom’s fingers were moving again, tap-tapping Billy’s shoulder.

“Well, yeah.” Billy rolled his eyes at the ceiling. “I’ve never kissed a guy that way, of course it was weirder than kissing a girl.”

“But not awful?”

Billy was silent for a long moment. “No. Not awful.”

“Can I kiss you again?”

“…I guess.”

Dom lifted his head from Billy’s chest, and Billy lifted his from the arm of the sofa.

~*~

“I can’t remember the last time I spent a whole afternoon kissing someone without doing anything else,” Dom said.

Billy grinned. “Are you complaining?” His hair was tousled, lips swollen and red. Dom was in much the same state.

“Not at all.” He grinned. “You’re a fantastic kisser.”

“Shut it.” Billy blushed, but he was smiling.

“Not as good as me,” Dom continued as though Billy hadn’t said anything, “but stick with me, kid, I’ll teach you everything I know.”

“I’m a much better kisser than you!” Billy exclaimed, thwacking Dom in the shoulder.

“No, no.” Dom shook his head. “You’re good, but you’ve never got a heterosexual man to kiss you for—” he looked at the clock on the DVD player— “three hours straight.”

“That can’t be the only judge of good kissing,” Billy protested.

“Supposedly heterosexual man,” Dom added.

Billy thwacked him again. “None of that, Monaghan.”

“Uh-huh. So is that a blade of Westernesse in your pocket or—” Billy began tickling him and Dom convulsed with laughter, gasping to finish— “are you—just—fuck! Stop it!—just happy to see meAAAAAAUUUGGGHHHH!”

“Fucking smart-arse goddamn pervert!” Billy shifted to pin Dom, digging his fingers hard into his ribs.

It ended with Billy atop Dom, and their faces an inch apart or so. And their erections aligned nicely, though neither man mentioned that fact. Or the fact that Billy seemed to be pressing down slightly with his hips. Or the fact that Dom seemed to be returning the pressure with small movements of his own, or the fact that both of them looked a little glazed, and they were both out of breath, and it might not be entirely due to the tickling match.

“Wanna kiss some more?” Dom licked his lips.

Billy mimicked the motion unconsciously. “Kinda… Well. Yeah. ’Cept I’m hungry.”

“I’m horny,” Dom said, as though agreeing.

Billy’s eyes focused and he grinned. “I said I’m _hungry_. Git.”

“That’s what I said.” Dom smiled angelically.

“You do know you don’t actually look innocent with that expression, don’t you?” Billy shifted slightly, propping his head on one hand so he could keep staring down at Dom. “Especially when you’re grinding into my trousers.”

“Your protests are deafening.” Dom’s mouth curled up at one corner.

Billy looked faintly aloof. “Just distracted is all. And m’still hungry.”

“Wanna eat first, then shag?”

“Dominic.”

“See, that’s what I think, too.” Dom nodded and ran his hands down Billy’s back. Stopped just at the small of his back. “Shag first, then eat. Want to be able to concentrate on the glories of whatever we’re eating. Pot noodles. Crisps. Pre-packaged porridge. Whatever marvels my kitchen happens to offer up for our gustatory pleasure.”

“I am not shagging you.”

Dom pouted, an expression made easier by bee-stung lips and heavy-lidded eyes. “How about a hand-job, then?”

“Hungry,” Billy repeated. “I’m going to see if you really have any porridge.” But he didn’t roll off Dom; didn’t, in fact, move at all, except to continue his rather dilatory pushing into the younger man’s pelvic region.

“Just think about it,” Dom said. “S’all I’m asking.” He blinked up at Billy; pressed his fingertips into Billy’s back.

Billy exhaled and closed his eyes. His face, still propped up on one hand, slid into a ludicrous expression as he relaxed and the skin was pulled to one side.

_Dom. A hand-job from Dom. He has nice hands. And I like getting myself off. Hardly ever get off with a woman’s hands, but hell, that’s prolly because I know there’s better prospects, like her mouth or even better than that… Which there could be with Dom, too—wait. No. Stick with the topic at—haha. At hand. Okay. Dom has gorgeous hands. And he gives a fucking brilliant neckrub. And, considering that he’s a walking hormone, I can safely assume he wanks about fourteen times a day, which at least means he’s probably proficient. And fuck, it’d be—interesting. Yeah. Interesting. To see his hands on me. See him stroking me. Yeah. Interesting._

_But I’d have to do him, too, wouldn’t I? I mean, I guess I would. Wonder how he looks? Feels like he’s pretty—uh. Hmm. Pretty endowed, I guess. So I’d get to check that first—fuck! First-hand, and I should be shot for that. That on top of topic at hand, definitely a firing squad matter. Okay, but, yeah. Get Dom in my hand. Get my mouth over his, kiss him when he comes, see if he’s quiet or noisy. Fuck. Bet he’s not quiet. Not Dom. Get to see that, feel that, make that happen—_

Billy realised he was right on the edge of drooling and snapped his eyes open, lifting his face out of his hand (surreptitiously wiping at the corner of his mouth on the way). He hoped Dom hadn’t noticed.

“So a hand-job, yeah?” Dom slid his hands up and down Billy’s back, pushing his hips up more urgently, but still gently, still without any real force.

“I—” Billy blinked. He was losing his mind. Obviously. “Y’know what?” He sat up, moving off Dom with care, ignoring the odd twisting in his belly. “I think I need to stop this.”

Dom’s face went very still—blank—and then relaxed again. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Billy shook his head, not to negate anything they’d said or done, but to clear his mind. Try to clear his mind. “I don’t—don’t wanna lead you on, Dominic.”

Dom didn’t move, just lay flat where he was, tousled and calm-looking, one leg pulled up and leaning against the back of the couch, the other draped over the side, bare foot flat on the wooden floor. “No need to get all serious on us, Bill.”

Billy smiled. “Sorry. Just—” he ran his hand through his hair, trying to decide if he felt panic, or relief, or fear, or what. “Just you’re lying there with a Billy-shaped indent on your lap. Weirds me out.”

Dom closed his eyes and opened them again—too slow to be a blink, too quick to read anything into. “Well, never mind then. I asked you to think about it, y’thought about it. Thanks.” No irony. No reproach.

A thousand quick replies fled through his mind, but Billy couldn’t quite make any of them fit. So he shrugged and smiled and nodded. “Alright. I have to go shopping—back to work tomorrow, and my cupboards are empty. You—you wanna come with?”

Dom sat up and stretched; his t-shirt rode up a bit and his back popped loudly. “Nah. I’m okay. Got enough to get me through the week.” He stood up and waited for Billy to put his trainers back on, then walked with him to the door.

Billy paused with the knob under his fingers. “Dom—”

“Shut it, Bills.” Dom smiled, a crooked quirk of his lips. “Go shop, and I’ll see you in the morning.” Billy nodded and turned the doorknob. Just as he stepped outside, Dom grabbed his shirt and pulled him close. “And don’t forget. You liked the kissing.” Dom’s mouth was aggressive, sweet, _ravishing_ —Billy thought the word in a gasp just as Dom released him and gave him a small shove out the door. “So no telling interviewers I’m a shite kisser, alright?”

He shut the door and Billy stood still for a second with his keys in his hands and his mouth open like a fool.

~*~

Billy twitched and fidgeted in his bed. He’d a hard-on, and no reason not to take care of it, except that every time he closed his eyes and began to stroke himself, he felt Dom’s tongue sweeping through his mouth, felt Dom’s hands twisting into his t-shirt or sliding down over his back, chest, arms. “Fuck!” he yelled into the dark, startling himself. He turned over, and pushed his head under the pillow, and kept his hands clenched on the bedsheets until he could finally sleep, his body aching and unfulfilled, face tight with frustration even in his dreams.

~*~

Billy got to Feet early, hoping to choose the music himself—something quiet, something soothing. Unfortunately Elijah had beaten him through the door by a minute or two, and already loud, metallic beats thudded dully through the thin aluminium walls. Well. At least no talking would be possible.

Billy pulled on his Pippin trousers and stood up, leaning on the counter while Melinda got his feet on, yawning and wishing he’d slept better. Wondering what the fuck he was supposed to say or do to Dom.

Dom and Sean came in together, both quiet and obviously sleepy. Sean smiled at everyone; Dom did the same and quickly stripped out of his denims, wearing pants as he always did on work days as a concession to the costumers, who had, frankly, insisted. Billy was grateful, for some reason—Dom looked faintly ridiculous in the saggy briefs, not at all arousing. Just—Dommish. Skinny legs and faded white kecks and his U2 tee, gray with peeling logo. Trousers on and so half-Merried, he stood beside Billy as usual, breathing deeply, eyes closed. Occasionally his arms moved in a large, slow arc, or his shoulders shifted, the cant of his back and hips changed—never enough to disturb his Feet, but he was stretching, slowly, subtly. Billy recognised it as something yoga-ish and centering, and felt a stab of jealousy. Dom had obviously slept fine.

Billy was done before Dom, could sit down and be Eared and wigged and made up until the transformation was complete. He put Pippin’s shirt and braces on, sat still with his eyes closed while Terry applied a little dirt. Nothing too smutchy today—the Fellowship on the march, moving through Hollin. Billy felt himself sliding into Pippin, welcomed it. Pippin wouldn’t be wondering if Merry tasted of toothpaste. Pippin wouldn’t be confused and irritable and half-angry. Pippin would want his porridge and be fine with laughing and shoving and joking, a day like any other day.

So Billy let Pippin take the reins all day, and he didn’t talk much. But he let himself be cheerful. Maybe Pippin hadn’t got much sleep, either, what with sleeping out and all, but he’d have slept well, when he did sleep. He’d have slept curled up with Merry, and it would have been comfortable, not at all weird. That thought was Billy, though, and Billy let it fade away, let himself sink again.

It was a long day, as usual. At the end of it Billy emerged slowly from Pippin and found himself feeling better. Dom had been himself all day, or rather Merry, which was reassuring. Maybe they would be able to just… forget about it. The kissing. He waved goodbye to the hobbits and Ian and stepped out into the chilly evening.

Halfway to his car he heard footsteps, and Dom came trotting up beside him. “Hey!”

“Hey.” Billy smiled at him. “Good work today.”

“You too.” Dom followed him to his car. “You were so far… I dunno. You were just all Pippin. It was good.”

“Thanks.”

Dom stopped by his car. “You wanna come over? We’ve got those new pages, for next week. We could run lines.”

Billy thought about it. _I could say no and go home, give myself more time to stop feeling so weird. Or I could go over and run lines and that would be good because it would help get things back on track in my head, help me forget some more about the kissing thing. But what if it’s weird? What if Dom tries to kiss me again?_

He looked at Dom, who was just—waiting. And Billy knew with the telepathy they sometimes had that Dom could hear the thoughts going through Billy’s head, and he knew Dom was going to wait and see what he did, and that Dom would be okay either way.

So. “Okay, I can come over. We’ll get Thai, yeah?”

“Your turn to pay.”

~*~

Billy settled into the easy chair without saying anything about it. He and Dom usually fought over the sofa, but Billy didn’t want—well. Didn’t want to touch Dom, find himself doing something stupid. Regret tasted odd in his mouth for a moment, but he shook it off. Back to normal. Things would be back to normal soon. He’d been stupid to let Dom kiss him, then stupider to keep on doing it for three hours. Three hours—that was beyond stupid, it was ridiculous. Billy stared at his script hard. Focus.

The food came and they ate while they ran the lines, then flipped idly ahead, looking at Moria and Lothlorien. “God, I love a good death scene,” Dom said, and Billy agreed. They compared past work.

Billy started staring at Dom’s mouth.

Fuck. He noticed himself doing it, looked away. Kept his eyes on the floor, or his hands, or the script lying closed in his lap. It wasn’t working, though, because he kept hearing Dom’s voice, and then he’d hear the small sounds Dom’d made yesterday when they kissed—nothing blatant or disturbing, just small _mmm_ noises. Billy had made them too. Billy kept hearing Dom’s jokes, the way he’d kept things fun the whole time they’d… made out, was probably the best phrase for it. It had been fun. But it wasn’t fun now, and Billy stopped listening, stopped talking.

“Dom.”

“—don’t you think? What?”

Billy closed his eyes. “I need to—shite. I’m sorry. I need to go.”

“S’only eight.”

Billy opened his eyes and looked at Dom. “I know you know why I’m all—fuck. Fucked up.”

“Yeah.” Dom pulled himself in, folded his legs like a crane and rested his elbows on his knees, chin in his hands. “But don’t leave. Just tell me what’s fucked up. Tell me why.”

“I just feel all—” Billy waved his hands. “Irritable. Regretful. Is that a word? I regret that we did that, yesterday.”

“You seemed okay all day today,” Dom observed, not moving. Not moving, and what the hell was that all about? Billy was the calm one, so why was he jiggling his knee up and down? Why was Dom just watching him?

“I was okay, I was Pippin.”

“So what’s so great about that?”

“Pippin isn’t—Pippin doesn’t—crap. Pippin wouldn’t be all freaked out around Merry.” Dom just watched him some more. Billy fidgeted, drummed his fingers. Waited. “Well, what?” he finally said.

Dom sat up, sat back. “Pippin probably started kissing Merry a long time ago.” He tilted his head. “And I fucking well bet Merry and Pippin were okay with it.”

“Oh fuck, not that again.” Billy rolled his eyes. Speculation over the hobbits’ sex lives had occupied many a half-drunken evening.

“Piss off, even you’ve said they were probably shagging,” Dom retorted. He unfolded his legs and stood up. “And furthermore,” he stood and came over to Billy, perched on the arm of the chair, “I think you’re regretful that you aren’t kissing me right now, not that you did yesterday.”

“Fuck you, Dominic.” Now Billy really was angry. He thought, probably. Yes. “Don’t try to tell me what I’m feeling.”

“Don’t get mad at me,” Dom said easily. He shifted, turned, slid down until he was in Billy’s lap. “It was just a thought. If I’m wrong, fine.”

“Get off me.” Billy’s heart was going too fast, his mouth was dry, his stomach was doing loop-de-loops. “Seriously, Dom. Get off.”

“You don’t usually mind when I climb all over you,” Dom said.

Billy closed his eyes. “I—look—fuck! Would you please just give me some fucking space?”

“Nope.” Dom bounced slightly, leaned sideways against Billy, wrapped his arms around him and sagged. “Not gonna let you do this.”

“Do what?” Billy practically yelled it. He started to pry at Dom’s arms, but Dom clung to him, squeezed him and dug his head into the space between Billy’s neck and chest and held on tight.

“This. This shit. You liked the kissing, and now that’s freaking you out, and so you’re going to try and tell yourself you didn’t like the kissing, and then maybe that you don’t like me, and then pretty soon you and I won’t be Billy and Dom anymore, we’ll just be Pippin and Merry, and when that ends, we’ll. I’ll. I won’t—we just. Won’t. Be us, and I’m not going to let you do that.”

Billy stopped tugging at his arms. “But Dom.”

“What?” Dom’s voice was muffled by Billy’s chest.

“I’m not… gay.” It came out a little weaker than Billy had meant. It almost sounded like a question.

Dom nodded against Billy’s collarbone. “Yeah.” He lifted his head and looked right at Billy. His face was red, and unreadable in a way Billy had rarely seen. He didn’t know what Dom was thinking. “Okay, I know. But Billy… I dunno. Have you ever thought maybe it doesn’t matter?”

“I know it doesn’t matter,” Billy said. “But—it does. To me.” He couldn’t meet Dom’s eyes, he looked down, at his crooked chin. “It’s a big deal, thinking you might want to be more than friends with your best mate—a guy.”

“See, that’s a big deal, yeah.” Dom was nodding. “The best mate part, that’s a big deal. The guy part?” He made a face, shrugged one shoulder. “Not such a big deal.” He loosened his arms, poked at Billy’s chin with one finger. “You seemed to like the kissing.”

“I did like it,” Billy admitted. The panic was fading a bit. It was, after all, just Dom. Just Dom sitting here looking at him, smiling slightly.

“So what’s the big deal?”

Billy drew a deep breath. He ducked his head, bumped his forehead against Dom’s chin. “I dunno. No. That’s a lie.” Might as well say it all, he guessed. “I’ve thought—thought some men were attractive. But it was sort of… faint. Not much, and there were always girls around to, to distract me. And the only men I’ve found attractive were friends, and one time when I was a lad one of them kissed me.”

“And what was that like?” Dom’s voice was as quiet as his own.

“It was fine,” Billy said. “It was weird, but interesting. But. I was about fifteen at the time, and I couldn’t handle it.”

“So what happened?”

Billy inhaled. “Nothing, except I wouldn’t talk to him, after. We weren’t friends anymore. And we were in school together, and then after we finished I heard about him sometimes—he turned out to be gay, and it was sort of awful, how my friends would say things about him, about being gay, and a poofter, and shite like that.”

Dom’s voice was barely there. “Yeah.”

“And I just felt—glad, y’know? That no one had caught us that day when we kissed. Glad I wasn’t gay.”

“Maybe bisexual.”

“I don’t—well. God, I don’t know. Maybe a wee bit, but I do like women, Dommie.”

Dom nodded. “I know. Hell, so do I, sometimes. Just not all the time. Probably not as much as you.”

Billy laughed, or tried to—it came out as a tiny wheeze. “So mebbe I’m about thirty percent gay, and you’re about… sixty percent.”

“We could say thirty-five and sixty-five and then we’d have one hundred percent gayness between us.” Dom was smiling.

There was a long silence.

Billy lifted his head and looked at him again. “So I lied when I said you were the first bloke I’d ever kissed.”

“You did.” Dom looked severe. Taking the piss, and Billy relaxed a little more.

“But it was weird—didn’t lie about that.” Billy smiled slightly, a little curl of one corner of his mouth.

“Probably just need practice.” Dom grinned, his wicked self again, and Billy gave him a skeptical look. “Oh, c’mon, Bill.”

“Dom, did you not hear what I just said? The whole thing freaks me out terribly.”

“And yet I notice you’re staring at my mouth again.”

Billy wrenched his eyes up to Dom’s. “Am I?”

Dom licked his lips and Billy’s gaze locked onto his mouth again. “You are.” Dom lifted one hand, brushed Billy’s hair over his ears. “Also not exactly kicking me out of your lap.”

“What if I freak out again?” It was not capitulation, not quite.

Dom cupped the back of his head and kissed him lightly on the lips. “Then I’ll sit on you until you remember who I am.”

Billy’s ears went pink. “Promise?”

Dom leaned forward until his forehead rested against Billy’s. “Billy, I just want to try this out, this thing, you and me. If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work, but let it be because you think I’m a shite housekeeper, not because I was born without a vagina.”

Billy snorted. “You are a shite housekeeper.”

“You’re no better,” Dom said. “Now can we please practice the kissing some more?”

Billy sighed, and thought about it, and sighed again. “…Yeah?”

Dom’s kisses were just the same as yesterday. Well, actually, his face was smoother—they’d both had to shave that morning, of course. So there was no rasp of stubble. Billy thought about that for a while, rubbed his cheek and chin along Dom’s face a bit and wasn’t sure whether he liked it better or worse. Dom’s lips were the same, though, soft and sweet, and his tongue was just as clever and tricky, sliding gently into Billy’s mouth, first just the tip, tasting Billy’s tongue delicately, and then more, until Billy’s head had tilted to one side and his jaw was open and loose and working slowly against Dom’s, their tongues slick and twining and deep within each other’s mouths, trading places, back and forth. First Dom was teasing and licking at every corner of Billy’s mouth, and then Billy’s tongue was sweeping through Dom’s mouth, intent on exploring the surfaces of his teeth, the satiny slide inside his lower lip.

“Mmm,” he said, and Dom agreed: “Mmmm.” Billy wanted to touch Dom’s hair, so he did. It was stiff with gel, and Billy played with it as they kissed, rubbed one clumpy strand after another and felt the hairs soften and separate between his fingers. It was an odd thing to do, but he kind of liked it, and when he pushed his fingertips against Dom’s skull, right up against the scalp, Dom made the most interesting sound yet, a sound that, had Dom been a woman, would have had Billy feeling very pleased with himself. Hell, he felt very pleased with himself anyway, and he did it again, pushed along Dom’s skull, from the nape of his neck up, and Dom shuddered and made the sound again, right into Billy’s mouth.

“Bill,” he said a minute later, and then he pulled his head back and let it fall onto Billy’s shoulder. His weight was solid and comfortable against Billy; his hands, which had been stroking softly along Billy’s neck, shoulders, sides, fluttered to a halt, one wrapped around the back of Billy’s neck, the other splayed lightly over his chest.

“I think we’re getting quite good at it,” Billy said. He scritched his fingers at the nape of Dom’s neck and felt him shiver again. “The kissing, I mean.”

Dom didn’t reply for a while. His fingertips tapped Billy’s sternum and curled into the fabric of his t-shirt.

“Okay there, Dom?” Billy rested his cheek against the top of Dom’s hair. He hadn’t got to playing with it here, yet, and it was stiff and crunchy against his face—prickly in almost the way Dom’s face no longer was, in fact.

“I’m kind of…” Dom’s leg jiggled suddenly, bouncing up and down. His foot was tucked into the crack between the seat cushion at its arm, and his heel beat a tattoo against the outside of Billy’s thigh. He cleared his throat.

“Kind of what?”

“Kind of hard,” Dom said. Billy could hear the grin, but he could also see Dom’s ears, and they were bright red. It made it less scary.

“I think I am, too,” Billy admitted. His voice came out whispery, and he was seized by giggles, suddenly, and clenched at Dom desperately as he shook with nearly silent laughter.

Dom started snickering, too, the uneven rhythm of his bouncing knee lost in the laughing.

“We’re such manly men, really,” Dom gasped after a while, raising his streaming eyes to look at Billy.

Billy nodded and wheezed, trying to calm himself. “S’just so—feck—” He rolled his eyes. “So stupid.”

Dom nodded and kissed Billy again, their few remaining giggles squirting into the little spaces where their mouths didn’t quite line up. And then there were no such spaces anymore, as the kiss deepened and their mouths sealed over each other.

“Mmm,” said Billy. Dom agreed.

They kept kissing, Dom’s hands smoothing over Billy’s shoulders and chest again and again, a hypnotic motion that made Billy wish he could purr like a cat. Billy’s hands settled on Dom’s back and neck, with occasional forays into his hair; occasionally his fingertips trailed across Dom’s cheekbones or down the long line of his odd, strong jaw.

The fourth or fifth time they stopped to breathe, Billy opened his eyes to see Dom looking right at him, solemn and quiet.

“Hey,” Billy said. “Alright?”

Dom nodded, but his expression didn’t change. “Yeah. Wanna.” He swallowed. “Wanna say something, but.”

Billy gripped Dom’s nape, squeezed and then relaxed his fingers. Dom’s eyes fluttered shut and then opened again, slowly. “But what? My current capacity for being terrified is overloaded, Dom, you might as well say it.”

Dom nearly smiled to match the quirk of Billy’s lips—his mouth twitched and then stilled. “Don’t make me laugh. If I start to laugh I’m screwed.”

Billy nodded, biting his lip to prevent a riposte along the lines of I-thought-that’s-what-you-wanted. _Choose your moments, Boyd_ , he told himself. “Okay. Go on.”

“Wanna, um.” Dom closed his eyes. “Wanna make you come, Billy. Really really really want to.” His whole face was the colour of a poppy, and he looked so incredibly petrified—eyes squinched shut, mouth tight and thin—that Billy, by contrast, felt nearly serene. Or maybe it was true—maybe he’d already been so frightened that he’d moved on into that state of calm acceptance that preludes disaster. Or revelation, he wasn’t sure yet which.

“Is that all?” he therefore said. And so what if it came out a bit squeaky? He was willing to bet that Dom wouldn’t call him on it.

Dom’s eyes popped open, dark and swimming and amazed in the light from the two lamps. He stared at Billy for a minute and then smiled cautiously. “Yeah.” An attempt at a casual shrug and he stuck his head under Billy’s chin, hands wound tightly into the older man’s t-shirt. His leg was doing its dance again, and Billy dropped one hand to Dom’s bouncing ankle. “Sorry.”

“S’okay.” Billy inhaled. “I mean, I’m about to cut your leg off, and then the Weta people will have to make you an animatronic replacement, but I’m sure they’re up for it. They’d probably welcome the challenge, and think of the extra publicity Pete’d get for the movie— ‘Miracle One-legged Hobbit’ or some shite—”

“Billy.” Dom’s voice sounded a trifle desperate. “Shut up and talk to me.”

“Ooooookay.” Billy paused and tried not to panic. “…Maybe we could go to your room?”

“Really?” Dom’s head popped up again and he looked so hopeful that Billy nodded. He even smiled.

~*~

Dom’s room was messy, and he scurried about picking up clothing and books and magazines and games until Billy tackled him, throwing him onto the bed. “We’ve established you’re a shite housekeeper,” Billy said, rolling off him and lying on his back. “No point in denying it now.” The ceiling was white plaster, clean and dimpled and dim in the half-lit room.

Dom snorted and stretched out beside him, lying on his side and leaning over Billy slightly. “Fuck you, Boyd.”

“Not a chance,” Billy shot back, then snapped his mouth shut in horror. Dom was silent for a split second, then he burst into peals of laughter. “Fuck you, Monaghan,” Billy growled.

Dom rolled over onto him, and Billy froze as his view of the ceiling was replaced by Dom’s grinning face. “I don’t think you’re ready for that yet, love,” Dom said, and he leaned down to kiss Billy again.

Billy forgot his anger, forgot his fear, embarrassment, humiliation—kissing Dom with Dom curled into his lap had been really, really good, but kissing Dom with Dom lying atop him, pressing him down into the yielding mattress and grinding very slowly into his pelvis, was much, much better.

Billy’s mouth opened and his hands fluttered up to settle on Dom’s back, and the two men stayed like that for a long time.

“Billy,” Dom finally said, and Billy was quite getting to like the way Dom murmured it, his name, right as their lips parted and they gasped for air.

He smiled and kept his eyes closed and said “Mmmm.” It meant _I’m listening_ , and Dom understood it, of course.

“I wanna make you come, Billy,” Dom whispered, and Billy shuddered and tightened his fingers on Dom’s back. Somehow his hands had migrated under Dom’s shirt and he felt warm, damp skin, smooth and muscular and new.

“I don’t think I’d mind it,” Billy said. He couldn’t open his eyes, couldn’t believe what he was about to say: “Did you say hand-job… yesterday?” _Was it only yesterday?_ his brain shrieked, goggling incredulously, but Dom was talking again, sliding slowly from Billy’s body to lie beside him:

“Yeah, god, yes,” Dom said, and he reached down and laid his hand on the bulge in Billy’s jeans.

Billy made some breathy, girly noise and shoved his hips upward. “…”

“Take off your trousers,” Dom said, asked, and Billy did. His eyes stayed shut as he fumbled with the zip and then lifted his hips to push jeans and boxers down at the same time; he wriggled and kicked until they were gone, then lay back again, breathing fast, panic battling desire. He heard Dom moving, too, felt the bed shift and when Dom lay beside him again, it was bare skin pressed to Billy’s arm and lying sleek and warm along his hip and thigh.

“Okay,” Billy said between shaky inhales.

“Open your eyes, Billy,” Dom said.

It took a minute, but Billy managed it. The ceiling was up there again.

He turned his head and looked at Dom. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Dom’s voice was warm and sweet and nervous, and Billy wanted to kiss him again, so he did—rolled to face him square and put one hand behind Dom’s head, pulled him gently forward and kissed him, trying to drown his own nerves in the heat that kept flaring and ebbing between them.

“God,” Dom husked when Billy broke away, and the younger man slid his hand down Billy’s ribs, over the smooth dip of his waist and narrow angles of his hipbone. Back onto Billy’s arse, which he palmed firmly for a moment, and then he slid his hand over Billy’s hip again. Just as he brought his hand onto Billy’s cock—as rigid and aching as Billy could ever remember it being—he covered Billy’s mouth with his own.

“Ahohfuck—” Billy tried to say, but Dom swallowed the words, wrapped his fingers around Billy’s cock and took him with tongue and fingers, all at once.

Billy thrashed for a moment and then thrust wildly into Dom’s fist. Dom lifted his mouth and stroked hard and sure; Billy’s hand clamped onto his bicep; his head fell back and he shuddered and tried to match the pace of Dom’s hands with his hips. “Dom—oh Jesus—”

“Good, yeah?” and Dom’s voice was so satisfied suddenly that Billy’s eyes, which had crashed shut, opened again.

 _Well that’s just not on_ , he thought, and he forced himself to let go Dom’s arm. Reached down without looking, arm curved over Dom’s fast-pumping forearm, and fumbled for Dom’s cock. _That’ll show him_ , Billy thought smugly as his fingers wrapped around hard flesh and Dom gave a strangled cry and lost his rhythm. Oh, wait, wait a minute—

“Billy please yes,” Dom moaned, and his hand faltered as his body opened up, moved toward Billy’s tight grasp.

“Don’t fecking stop, Dom,” Billy said, somewhere between an order and a plea, but they both halted to breathe hard.

Billy lifted his head to meet Dom’s eyes. “Together, then?”

Dom nodded wordlessly, keeping his gaze locked to Billy’s as they began again, stroking and moving their hips in a rhythm that began awkwardly but smoothed into a fast, frantic pace almost immediately. Billy’s mouth opened and noises began to fall from his lips—he’d never made such sounds, he didn’t think, but they felt good, and Dom seemed to like them, from the way he was sweating and moaning along. Dom’s hand stuttered to a halt and Billy nearly screamed with frustration until he realised Dom was about to come. Billy stroked hard and watched avidly as Dom’s eyes closed, his mouth opened—red wet beautiful—and his whole body shuddered as he shoved forward four times, coming over Billy’s fingers and thigh.

“Holy shit,” Billy gasped, strangely moved and so turned on he thought he might come just from the sight of it. “Jesus God.”

Dom sagged for a minute and then opened heavy eyes, blinking at Billy with a small smile. “Bill,” he slurred. His eyes shut and then opened again. “Oh, Billy, I’m sorry—” he pushed himself onto one elbow and reached for Billy’s cock.

“Kiss me first,” Billy demanded. He grabbed Dom’s neck with one sticky hand and yanked him forward. Their mouths came together hard, and Dom moaned and slid his hand onto Billy’s erection again.

Dom began to stroke as their teeth clattered and tongues twisted, drinking Billy’s desperate sounds and fast, hot breath. “Come on, Billy,” Dom whispered, and Billy groaned and shivered and came harder than he’d ever come before in his life, _ever_ , sobbing breath and clenched muscles and his hand still tight on Dom’s nape as the orgasm tore through him and left him shaking and weak.

“Dom,” he said, sinking down and forward, exhausted and frightened at how good it had been. All he could think to do was seek comfort, and there were Dom’s arms, pulling him in and holding him as he tried to figure out if he was elated or horrified. His brain wasn’t working properly, which might be a good thing, he decided.

“Are you okay?” Dom cleaned his hand hastily on a corner of the sheet and threaded his fingers into Billy’s hair, holding him in place. Billy breathed, in and out, hypnotised by the scent of sex that was so powerful here, with his forehead and nose pressed to Dom’s sweat-slick sternum.

“I think I’m okay,” Billy said after some little time, and Dom rubbed his hair kindly.

“Sit up, yeah? Let’s get your shirt off.”

Billy sat up and pulled the shirt over his head. He hadn’t met Dom’s eyes yet, didn’t know what he would see there, or, worse yet, what he might reveal to Dom. Dom fished over the side of the bed and came up with a wrinkled t-shirt, which he used to clean Billy and then himself before tossing it away into a dark corner. “Thanks…”

“Come here,” Dom said quietly.

Billy stayed where he was, hunched over. “I should go home,” he whispered.

Dom’s hand slipped onto Billy’s. His fingers were warm and dry. “Stay here.”

Billy nodded, then sat still.

Dom scooted closer on the bed and rubbed his thumb across Billy’s knuckles. “Lie down with me?”

Billy lay stiff and motionless beside Dom; Dom let him, for few minutes, then inched closer and closer until he was warm and naked and flush against Billy. “Do I need to sit on you for a while?” he asked.

Billy nodded, a tiny movement, and Dom lifted and then lowered himself onto Billy, solid, tangible weight that made Billy’s lungs deflate and his heart begin to slow from its trip-hammering pace. Dom tucked his face into Billy’s neck, and after a while Billy’s hands settled tentatively onto Dom’s back.

“Better?” Dom’s voice was muffled.

“…Yeah.” Billy sighed, long and shaky. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s scary.” Dom slid off and lay only half-sprawled on him. “Don’t want to squash you,” he murmured.

“Mkay.” Billy turned to face him, curled into him. “This could go so wrong,” he said, very low.

“I know. But. It’s just me, Billy,” Dom whispered. He stroked Billy’s hair and shoulder, pulled him close, closer, closest until Billy tucked his head into Dom’s neck and let his body loosen, though his mind could not. “It’s just me.”

“I know.”

“I should tell you something, Billy.” Dom’s muscles tensed; his fingertips pressed into Billy’s skin.

“What?” Billy wriggled back slightly and lifted his head.

“God, you’re fucking sexy,” Dom murmured; his eyes flicked over Billy’s face and he smiled, the tentative smile of a man who is being brave.

Billy blushed, and Dom did, too. “Don’t be ridiculous,” Billy said, low and dismissive.

“No—wait. That’s not what I wanted to tell you, but Jesus, you are, Bill. When you look at me like that I just—fuck. You’ve no idea, have you?” Dom lurched forward suddenly, smashed his mouth against Billy’s so hard the older man yelped. But Dom wasn’t finished—he held Billy close and strong and kissed him, deep and thick and wet and hot. Billy reeled and clung and struggled and surrendered.

They were both breathing hard when their mouths parted.

“So what did you want to tell me?” Billy panted.

“Just. I said earlier how much I like you, and that’s true, but fuck, Bills, I suck at subtle—you know that, right?” He didn’t give Billy a chance to respond; when Billy opened his mouth to interrupt, Dom put his hand over Billy’s lips. “Don’t talk, and don’t make me laugh.” Billy nodded, and Dom pulled his hand away. “I just wanted to say that I love you. And even if this goes south—even if it tanks unbelievably—you have to know that.”

“I know that,” Billy said. He pillowed his head on his arm and watched Dom for a second. “And you know I love you, yeah?”

“S’the only way I could do it,” Dom said. Billy nodded again.

“I’m sleepy,” he said after a while.

Dom made a face that agreed, and stroked Billy’s hair again. “You going to freak out again when you wake up?”

Billy shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.” He grinned weakly. “Probably.”

“Mmm.” Dom shifted, pulled the duvet up and over them both. He snuck one arm under Billy and laid the other over him. Pulled him close, so Billy was snug against him.

Billy closed his eyes. His cheek rested against Dom’s chest: smooth, warm, nice. Dom’s arm lay over his waist; one hand stroked gently along Billy’s back and Billy inhaled long and slow, felt his eyes flutter closed. “Comfy?”

“Yeah.” Billy let his hand flatten against Dom’s waist. “Sleep like this.”

“That’s my plan.” Dom kissed his hair and Billy smiled into his skin. “Gonna keep you here, hold you tight so you don’t forget you liked the kissing.”

“I did like the kissing.”

“And the other stuff, too,” Dom said.

Billy rubbed his nose into Dom’s sternum. “All of it. Just…” he sighed, the last dregs of adrenaline ebbing away, sleep flowing in to fill up the spaces. “…just be patient with me.”

“And I’ll kiss you a lot, too.”

“Mmkay.” Billy pursed his lips, relaxed them. “We’ll be okay.” He closed his eyes with a sigh and felt Dom’s deep breath against his cheeks, under his arms.

“Better than okay.”

“Mm. Yeah.” Billy yawned. “Love you.” And that, at least, felt easy.


End file.
